


Tired

by Mikkal



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Gen, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Self Loathing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-30
Updated: 2016-03-30
Packaged: 2018-05-30 02:29:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6405079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mikkal/pseuds/Mikkal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After seeing their past selves and the people from Supergirl's Earth, Barry realizes how <i>tired</i> his friends look and immediately feels guilty for everything that's happened. Then Hartley shows up.</p><blockquote>
  <p>"Barry."</p>
  <p>He does <i>not</i> jump at the unexpectedness of his name, let alone at his name being said by Hartley Rathaway. He turns, dropping his hand from his mouth, stretching it around his arm instead like he could hold himself together. This Hartley, compared to this Caitlin and this Cisco, looks lighter, happier.</p>
  <p>“How was dinner with your parents?” Barry asks. His voice is hoarse and he coughs to clear it. “Did it turn out as well has you were hoping?”</p>
</blockquote>
            </blockquote>





	Tired

Barry’s going to take responsibility and admit he’s a bad friend.

            So very much so a bad friend.

            Looking at Caitlin and Cisco now, heads together as they work over a problem at the computers, he realizes he never noticed how _tired_ they look. How, how _beaten_ they look. Imagining them side-by-side with their past selves, remembering how James and Winn looked over on—he could probably call it Earth-3, but kind of wants to call it Earth-11—how they looked over on Earth-11, how light they were, how happy they were, it feels like a punch to the gut.

            He chokes a little and covers his mouth with a hand, watching them work.

            He’s been selfish. That revelation fills him with a sort of self-loathing despair. He’s been selfish even though he’s tried so hard not to be. But these past two years, his mindless goal toward revenge without a thought to anyone else’s safety (Cisco and Wells and force fields and Everyman), his selfish want to have Iris all to himself meant he treated a good guy who could have been a really good friend horribly, his arrogance and ignorance led to the Singularity, to Eddie and Ronnie’s death (ripping away one of the greatest things that ever happened to Iris and Caitlin), opening the breaches, letting _Zoom_ in to their world…he caused all of that. His selfishness.

            And there’s nothing Barry can do to fix any of this.

            They tried to tell him so many times that everyone was making choices that day of the Singularity. They chose to help him go back in time, Eddie chose to kill himself to save them all, Firestorm chose to separate in the core of Singularity to dismantle it, but, in the end, his decision led to all of theirs.

            (Is it selfish to hold onto that guilt all by himself?)

            If he wants to go farther he can. But then it leads to something beyond selfishness, something beyond his control, but, still, ultimately his fault.

            The guilt is suffocating, drowning. Thick, thick molasses to wade through to get the other side where he could possibly smile and joke without breaking.

            Cisco, Cisco’s like that. Barry sees it. He jokes and laughs and smiles, but his hair goes greasy more often than not these days, stringy and knotted, his jeans develop holes and he doesn’t shop for more, his hands shake sometimes when he’s working, dark bags under his eyes, a paleness to his face that wasn’t there even a year ago.

            (Barry wants to keep Jay’s— _Zoom’s_ helmet as a motivation even though he can see clearly what it does to Cisco every time he walks by. Why?)

            Caitlin is more severe, _again_ , than ever before. Ronnie twice, Jay twice. Death and then betrayal. She tried to leave, but Barry’s inability to take care of problems dragged back in. She smiles even less than she didn’t before, her face a white sheet, her make up and dress always so immaculate like it’s an armor against the world. She sleeps in fits and sometimes here in STAR Labs, hunched over a table, a tablet under her hand, eyelids twitching, fists clenching.

            They’re tired and beaten and Barry can’t do anything to help, not anymore.

            He’s not entirely convinced he could’ve helped before anyway.

            “Barry.”

            He does _not_ jump at the unexpectedness of his name, let alone at his name being said by Hartley Rathaway. He turns, dropping his hand from his mouth, stretching it around his arm instead like he could hold himself together. This Hartley, compared to this Caitlin and this Cisco, looks lighter, happier.

            “How was dinner with your parents?” Barry asks. His voice is hoarse and he coughs to clear it. “Did it turn out as well has you were hoping?”

            Hartley gives a small smile, shrugging. “Considering I thought it would end up with my mother crying, my sister throwing a wine glass at someone’s head, and my father kicking me out, the fact we made it through with only one shouting match wins in my book.”

            “Oh, that’s good.”

            He searches Barry’s face like he’s looking for something, titling his head. “Do you remember the altered timeline yet? It’s been a couple days now.”

            Barry shakes his head. “Not really. It’s coming to me in small bursts and they stick, but it’s taking longer than I thought it would. I’ve never dealt with a timeline like this before. I either never came back or nothing was really altered.” It feels weird telling Hartley this, but, hey, the guy’s been part of the team for the better part of a year, from what he’s learned, he’ll just have to deal.

            “You look tired. Was that alien you met not all she was cracked up to be?”

            He blinks, startled. “Kara? No, she was great.” He sighs. “That whole world was great.” He got back literally only a few hours ago and he can still taste the last ice cream run they, all four of them, went on before Kara and him had their little pseudo race.

            Hartley’s eyes narrow. It’s weird. “What designation did Cisco give it?”

            “He wanted to called it Earth-A,” he answers with a fond smile. “For alien. But Earth-11 has a better ring and matches up with the whole theme we’ve got going on, so…” He runs a hand through his hair. “That world it was so _nice_ and sunny. Oliver use to mock that he wasn’t like me, that he didn’t live in ‘Central City, where it's sunny all the time.’ But it’s not. We’re not a nice place, are we, Hart?”

            The moment he says it, he wants to take back the ‘Hart,’ but Hartley doesn’t blink and then there’s a flash of memory from after they rescued Professor Stein from Eiling and Hartley telling him to call him ‘Hart’ with a half-smile just before Ronnie drags him into a group hug. It’s a memory that worms its way into his head.

            “No, we’re not,” he replies simply. There’s concern in his eyes and Barry just wants to run away. This is too weird. Too, too weird. “Barry, are you okay? What happened?”

            Barry drags his hands down his face, pressing his fingers to the side of his face. “I don’t know what to do,” he admits roughly. “This all fucked up. I want to help them.” He gestures towards Cisco and Caitlin. Cisco glances up, raising an eyebrow at them, before ducking back down. “I want them to smile again, sleep without nightmares, laugh without sounding hysterical. I want their lives to be less horrible. Going back in time? Before anyone knew about Eobard Thawne? They were so _happy_. Even with Ronnie gone and STAR Labs blacklisted, they were happier, they didn’t look as tired. Even _I_ looked different. Going to Earth-11? Running into Kara, Winn, and James? Their lives are so much better even with the aliens and the metahumans. They’re happier. I want that for them. I-I just—If it weren’t for me—.”

            “Breathe,” Hartley cuts in. “You’re _this_ close to talking too fast for me to understand.” His hand is on Barry shoulder, grounding him, and Barry can remember him doing the same to Cisco as he comforted Caitlin after Jay’s supposed death. “How long have you been holding on to all of this? Since the Singularity, I assume? And recent events was a trigger?”

            He nods wordlessly.

            Hartley sighs. “We really need to set you up with some therapy, but you—.”

            “Keep refusing,” Barry finishes. It’s a common argument. Cisco goes, as scattered as he makes his appointments and as much as he claims it doesn’t help. Caitlin goes a little more regularly than that, but started a break when Jay died. He has a CCPD assigned grief counselor, but he can’t bring himself to talk to her. And Hartley’s been offering to pay for better, more discreet ones since they all started working together again and now that he’s on better terms with his parents. But he _can’t…_

            “It’s not healthy to feel like this,” Hartley says. “It’s even worse with it’s so misplaced.”

            Barry covers his face with his hands, pressing his fingers against his eyes. “I know,” he mumbles. “I know that. But the longer I think about the longer I realize, it really _is_ my fault. I don’t know what I did, or will do, but if I hadn’t done it then Eobard would’ve never been obsessed with being a hero like me, he would’ve never gotten his powers, he would’ve never realized he was a villain in my story. He would’ve never gone back to 2024 to kill me, fail, then go back to kill me when I was eleven. If I hadn’t gone back to stop him then I wouldn’t be alive and he wouldn’t have wasted so much energy getting me my powers so his connection could reform. He wouldn’t have caused all this destruction and chaos and _pain_. If I hadn’t done that _one_ thing.”

            Hartley stares at him, wide-eyed. “That logic is…flimsy, but, unfortunately, makes sense. Shouldn’t you know by now, though, that you can’t think like that? It tears you apart.”

            “I _know_ ,” he says desperately. “I know that too! But when you look around and see all of this? It’s hard _not to._ ”

            He grabs Barry other shoulder, shaking him just a little. “You need a vacation,” he says seriously.

            The absurdity of Hartley Rathaway telling him to take a vacation causes a giggle to bubble in his throat and he can’t stop it. It builds into a full-out laugh until he’s laughing hysterically, leaning hard against the wall behind him.

            He can’t stop. _He can’t stop_. He laughs until it hurts, until he’s barely making a sound just a high wheezing noise. He slides to the ground, uncontrolled, his legs splaying out.

            “ _Caitlin_!”

            It’s all a blur of black spots and fuzzy outlines. Hands grab at his face, fingers spread along his jaw and neck.

            “Barry.” Caitlin’s presence is warm. “Barry, listen to me. Slow down. In. 1. 2. 3. Out. 1. 2. 3. In. 1. 2. 3. Out. 1. 2. 3.” She keeps up the slow, soothing rhythm of breaths. Cisco’s pressed against his other side, deliberately breathing exaggeratedly so Barry can feel his chest move against his shoulder.

            He rides it out, forcing his lungs to work slower, until he’s at the last legs of his attack and the next sound comes out as a sob.

            “I’m sorry,” he chokes out. “I’m so sorry.”

            Cisco drops his head against his shoulder, his hair tickling his cheek. “Please don’t be,” he says softly. “We’ve all made some bad decisions here and there, especially recently, but please, stop hurting yourself over this.” Barry’s breath hitches. “We could hear you guys talking.”

            “I’m sorry,” he repeats pathetically. He doesn’t know how to stop. Even before, when his biggest tragedy was his mom being murdered and his dad jailed for it (which makes it sound so trivial like that), when the emotional got too much and it turned to physical hurting, he had such a hard time stopping.

            He reaches out half-blind and snags Hartley’s sleeve. Hartley’s eyes are wide, a little shiny, but he catches Barry’s gaze and holds it, a question there.

            “C-Can,” he croaks, clears his throat and tires again. “Can you get rid of the helmet?” he asks. “Please?”

            Hartley nods silently, covering Barry’s hand and squeezing once before he gets up. He pats Cisco on the shoulder as he heads to the cortex. He picks up Jay’s helmet like it’s the most disgusting thing he’s seen since Eobard revealed he wasn’t actually disabled and the wheelchair was a ruse to tug on heartstrings.

            As Hartley leaves, Barry says it again. “I’m sorry.”

            It’s not enough.

            It’s not enough to erase the bad he’s caused, the bad he hasn’t caused. It’s not enough to make them smile or happy again. It’s not enough—

            But it’s a start.

**Author's Note:**

> Earth-11: 'k' is the eleventh letter in the alphabet. 'K' is for Kara and Krypton.
> 
> Barry: I really, really like Barry. It's 5:00 am now as i post this and I don't know if this comes off as me not liking him?
> 
> Hartley: Holy Harry Potter I'm so happy
> 
> Memories: Barry doesn't technically have to remember the new timeline right away, coming back in chunks or all together a few days later makes sense.
> 
> Idea: Came from the sight of Barry looking so tired and sad on Supergirl and in Flash Back. And that he's the only one who sees the comparisons so clearly cos he's the only one who, well, saw them.


End file.
